Possessor
by Akira Hibiki
Summary: AU. Light Yagami is an innocent human when he picks up the Death Note, only curious. But he soon falls victim to the terrible passenger inside the notebook of death.
1. Chapter 1

**Possessor**

This is rated T because of violence and swearing in later chapters; the first few chapters will probably be relatively clean (save the occasional swear, as mentioned earlier.)

* * *

If someone had eyes that could see outside the range of normal human sight…

If someone had those eyes…

They might have taken slightly more notice of the black notebook with the words 'Death Note' written on it as it fell from the sky.

They might have noticed that it was surrounded by a black glow so deep that it was somehow blacker than black.

They might have noticed that, after it hit the ground, the glow extended many finger-like tendrils that were of the same color and material. They extended, touching the grass, exploring their surroundings up to a certain radius, then sliding back into the glow that possessed the notebook.

They might have noticed, later that day, a handsome 17-year-old boy with slicked-down, honey-colored hair approach the notebook. As he bent down to pick it up, the glow darkened and began to flow around the notebook, as though excited by the presence of a human so close to it.

They might have noticed, possibly with terror or revulsion, that the moment the boy's fingers touched the cover of the notebook, the tendrils re-emerged with lightning speed and began to wind themselves up the boy's hand. As they grew longer, the glow around the notebook dimmed, until the blackness that had surrounded the notebook was climbing up the boy's body, toward the base of his skull. There, it inserted itself into the back of his mind.

And waited.

If someone had eyes that could see outside the range of normal human sight, they might have seen all this.

But humans can see only those colors produced by white light.

There are no exceptions.

And so, no human could have seen that glow around the notebook, which was the ultraviolet equivalent of black that no human has or will ever see, seclude itself in the back of Light Yagami's mind.

And because of this basic failure of human sight, thousands of criminals were doomed to death by heart attack.

* * *

_**A/N::** _This idea has been floating around my head for a while now… so, basically, what has always struck me as odd is how quickly Light's mindset changed in the first episode. Originally, he's freaking out over killing Kurou Otoharada and Takuo Shibuimaru, but almost immediately after the initial panic attack he gets in the alley after killing Takuo, he suddenly starts thinking, '_This world is rotten! And those who are making it rot deserve to die!' _

What I've wondered is; how the hell did he get into the 'criminals must die' mindset that quickly, especially after having a panic attack over killing two criminals who quite clearly deserved what they got? (Yeah, I know that sounds like Kira, but I'm kind of in favor of that eye-for-an-eye stuff that L spouts in episode 18 during the fight between him and Light. Kurou Otoharada had killed people, and Takuo was just about to rape a woman with his gang. They probably would have succeeded if Light hadn't been there with the Death Note to save the day.)

Back on topic; just what is the reason for Light's freakishly sudden and quick change of heart about killing? I've often been drawn to the idea of Light and Kira being split personalities, and out came this idea. (You'll find out what the black glow is and why it's there in later chapters. It actually has a pretty interesting back-story.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Possessor**

Chapter 2

* * *

_Oh god, they're _dead_!_

There's a horrible, nauseous feeling in my stomach. Gasping, I lean against the wall of the alley, feeling faint.

_That guy, he… they just… _died_, both of them, they _died_… I did it, _I_ killed them, _me_… oh god, no, this can't be happening… the police will figure it out, no way they won't, and then I'll… I'll… I'll be _arrested_… no… how could I kill someone, kill anyone? _Everyone _has a right to life, who am I to, to take it away, even if they _were_ disgusting scumbags… I _killed _them… Why, oh, _why_ did I pick up this damned notebook…?_

_

* * *

_

[flashback]

* * *

"What a stupid attempt at a chain letter."

I set the notebook back down on the ground and walked away.

_Is that what people are into these days? That's sick, not to mention _twisted_… 'The human whose name is written in this note shall die'… _Please_._

But something makes me turn back. Walk back to the notebook, look at it again. Pick it up. Put it in my bag.

_Am I actually considering that this might be real? Something's wrong with me, _I think as I walk home.

Back in my room, I read the rest of the instructions.

_This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected._

_If the cause of death is written within 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen. _

_If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack._

_After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds._

_Well, even if it _is_ a prank, it's a lot more thought-out than most chain e-mails and other stuff like that._

"So, I write a name down, and that person… dies." It seems impossible. "Like anyone would believe that," I say, half trying to reassure myself that it's an unbelievable thing.

_Stop being an idiot, Light. If I write someone's name on my school notebook, does that person die? No. Why should this be any different?_

So I get up, open the notebook, grab my pencil, put it's tip to the paper. To prove that it's a hoax.

Then I stop.

_What if someone actually dies?_ I think. _If that happens, am I a murderer? _It's a worrying thought.

Then I put the pencil down, sighing. _I'm getting too serious about this. It's a prank, that's all. _Grabbing the remote, I turn on the TV.

"A suspect in a brutal stabbing that occurred in Shinjuku yesterday is barricaded inside this preschool with hostages. The suspect has been identified as 42-year-old Kurou Otoharada."

_Great. More news on how crime runs rampant. Just what I needed._

Then, the man's picture flashes up on the screen, along with his name.

I don't know what happens then. I really don't. All I know is, suddenly I'm writing his name down in the Death Note, thinking of his face. Then I look at the clock.

_A heart attack in 40 seconds._

I wait. 44 seconds pass.

Nothing happens.

Initially I feel relieved, but then I berate myself silently. _Idiot. You knew it was a prank. Why get so worked up?_

"So it's fake after all," I say. "Not that I expected it to be real." I get up to turn off the TV.

"Wait! We're seeing something here!"

I stop.

Stare.

_No way. It can't be. A notebook can't possibly…_

"It looks like… yes! The hostages are coming out! They appear to be unharmed! The police are taking action, they're moving in! What's going on?! Have negotiations succeeded?!"

_Oh my god, _no_. This can't be real._

"Okay, we now have confirmation. The suspect has been found _dead_ inside! I repeat, the suspect is now _dead_!"

"_Dead_?!"

_No way. It couldn't… It can't…_

"According to eyewitness reports, the suspect just suddenly collapsed."

_A heart attack… in 40 seconds…_

I can't do anything but stare at the TV and protest silently in my head.

_It's impossible… just writing someone's name down can't kill them! It's not true…_

I take a deep breath. _Okay, calm down. It's got to be a coincidence. Okay, so it's a really freaky coincidence, but a coincidence just the same._

"Light!"

I jump, a sudden feeling of being caught racing through me. _Does my subconscious believe I _killed _that guy on TV by writing his _name_ down? I must be going insane…_

"Light, it's 6:30. Don't you have cram school tonight?"

Mom's voice.

"Y-yeah, I'm just getting ready. Be right down, okay?"

_Death Note…_

I put the black notebook in my bag, thinking. _If there's any chance that this can actually kill people… and let's face it, if I'm honest with myself there's a _huge_ chance it's for real… I have to test it out, just once more. Once more…_

The thought sends chills down my spine.

* * *

[/flashback]

* * *

_I killed them… I killed them both… me, I _killed_ someone, I caused them to die, _both_ of them… they were humans like me! What… what right do _I_ have to decide that they can't live anymore… oh god, they're _dead_ because of me…_

The queasiness in my stomach becomes too much to bear and I double over, retching.

"_Ughh_… Oh god, _why_ did I write down those names…"

The queasiness spikes again, and this time I throw up. Wiping my mouth, I try to stand up, but the stress and worry makes it almost impossible. I lean against the alley wall, trying to at least keep myself upright.

_Oh god, what _now_? If I go home, my parents will notice something's wrong, and… I'll crack I can't take even _this_… and then I'll be arrested and charged for murder… oh god, _no_… What do I _do_… someone help… please…_

Then it's like my head explodes.

My vision shatters, or a more accurate phrase would be that it goes ballistic. Blue, shining streaks flash around, and everything is disjointed and oddly colored and it's like I can't tell where the sky and the ground are anymore, even as I hit a hard, flat, wet surface that must be the floor of the alley.

And then I feel _something_, something sinister and alien, something that sure as hell isn't human moving _through_ me. I feel little, vine-like tendrils wrapping around my muscles, spreading throughout my body, until they are wrapped around every single nerve, every reflex, every minuscule muscle that controls those tiny, minute variations in my facial expressions. It's all over me.

And it feels so _wrong_.

By this time the odd vision overload has passed, and I stand up forcefully, clutching my bag in a death grip, but the sudden in height is too much and I fall back to the ground and start convulsing, because these weird _things_ that are spread throughout my body feel so alien and evil and just plain _wrong_ that I want them _out_, they have to get _out_, I _need_ them _out_, otherwise I'm going to go crazy with the _wrongness_ of it all. I'm moving, twisting, trying to shake them out, but they tighten their grip on my muscles and they start to burn me, and it _hurts_, and I'm clawing at myself, trying to rip them out, get them _out_, so they can't hurt me anymore.

Then a sudden mental force pushes at me, and I somehow _know_ that it comes from the tendrils, but before I can figure out _why_ I know this, a wall of blackness bursts across my vision, and the tendrils burn more and send searing pain through my limbs.

It's too much, and even though I can feel the animalistic scream of pain building up inside me, I try my best to hold it in, until I can't stand it anymore and I open my mouth to let it out.

But no sound comes.

Not a sound that can be _heard_, at least. A mental scream of anguish echoes through my mind.

Then I realize that my mouth isn't open. And that can't be, because I clearly remember sending the appropriate nerve signal to the muscles that control my mouth that would tell it to open.

But I'm just lying slumped against the wall of the alley, breathing heavily. That does not surprise me, given the freakish ordeal I just went through. Fortunately, I can't feel the burning presence of the tendrils anymore. It's all exhaustion, fatigue, relief, and triumph.

Wait; _triumph_?

Well, I suppose I might feel triumph after managing to get rid of that alien _thing _that somehow bound itself to my muscles.

Suddenly, the fingers on my right hand twitch involuntarily. Then the fingers on my other hand follow suit. They both flex, and then push me up off the ground into a standing position. My head looks from side to side.

All this happens without my willing it to.

Feelings of triumph and satisfaction flood my mind. Those feelings aren't mine.

Then I feel it again. The alien thing.

_It's controlling my body._

_

* * *

_

_**A/N::**_ Yay for cliffies and run-on sentences!

Okay, I feel that there are a lot of things wrong with this chapter, but this is the best I've been able to get it. (The first draft would rot your brain, trust me.) I was going to mention them in this author's note, but my arm hurts too much. So, if you have a question, put it in your review and I'll private-message you, as well as put answers to all the questions in an author's note at the beginning of the next chapter.

And review even if you don't have a question. Reviews are my ego-booster.


End file.
